Ghost from the Past
by KarenBCN
Summary: Someone Addison never expected to meet shows up at her office.


"You don't get it, Addison," Naomi told her friend, pacing around her office. "You've never had a child. You don't know what it's like to see your child's future ruined when she's only 15 years old."

Addison, watching Naomi from her couch, didn't respond. They'd had versions of this conversation countless times during the six days since Naomi had learned of Maya's pregnancy.

"I can't take care of a baby. I'm obviously not doing a very good job of taking care of a 15 year old. Do you realize the baby will be two years old when Maya starts college? How's she going to deal with classes when she has a two year old? And she wanted to travel, go spend some time in Europe. That's out of the question now."

"Maybe not. Are you sure she wants to keep it?"

"I'm not sure about anything right now."

Addison sighed. "She's only seven weeks. There's still time for an abortion, and if she doesn't want that, there's time to look into adoption. But Nae, you don't want to make decisions for her, even if she is only 15. Dell did that with Betsy, and look what that did to her."

"Yeah, well, that's different."

"Everything's different when it's your own child."

Both women looked toward the door when they heard a knock. Dell stuck his head in. "Someone is here to see you, Addison. She says her mother is a former patient of yours."

"OK." Addison stood, hugging Naomi. "You guys will work through this. Come rant and rave to me any time, if it'll help you deal calmly with Maya."

Naomi snorted. "Yeah, well, expect me in here a lot, because I'm not even close to that point yet."

Naomi left, and moments later Dell ushered in a girl about Maya's age. She had a brace on one leg, and she walked with a cane. Addison nodded to Dell and smiled at the girl. "Hi, I'm Dr. Montgomery. Would the couch or a chair be better for you?"

"A chair, please." She smiled at Addison and sat down in the chair Addison turned around for her.

Addison pulled another chair around so she could face the girl. "Dell said that your mother was a patient of mine. What's your name?"

"Gina Johannsen. But that's not my mother's name. Her first name was Tisha, but I don't know what her last name is."

"Oh—you were adopted?"

"Yes. After my mother went to see you in New York. I live here in Los Angeles with my parents, and I was really surprised when I googled you one day and found out you were working here."

"I'm surprised you even knew my name. You did say it was your birth mother who was my patient, right?"

"Yes. But my adoptive parents are the ones who told me your name."

"Oh. Was your adoptive mom one of my patients too?"

"No. No, my adoptive mom would never have been one of your patients." The girl studied Addison's face for a moment. "You tried to abort me 14 years ago."

Addison froze. Fourteen years ago, when she'd performed only a handful of abortions, she'd performed a saline abortion on a 17 year old—Gina's mother, apparently. That meant injecting saline into the amniotic sac and waiting for it to terminate the fetus. It was a procedure done after the first trimester—at the beginning of the third trimester, in some cases--and the mother's body would expel the fetus about 24 hours later.

But one of her patients had given birth to a living baby. At that time she, as the doctor, should have completed the abortion outside the woman's body. But the baby had been born before she'd arrived at the clinic, and the nurse, instead of calling for a doctor, had called an ambulance and had the baby taken to the hospital. And she'd survived.

Gina had watched the play of emotions on the doctor's face. Now, as Addison's eyes met hers again, she asked, "How does it feel to look at me?"

"I-I'm sorry, Gina. I . . ." She swallowed. If she'd been at the clinic when the woman had delivered this girl, she would have finished the abortion. She'd been carrying out what the mother had chosen to do, but now, looking into the eyes of a girl not much younger than the young woman who'd wanted to abort her, she didn't know what to say.

"You were just doing your job? That's what my parents said you were thinking. They said that you believe that women have a right to do what they want with their own body and that most people like you are big on women's rights." She paused. "But what about _my _rights? Who was looking after me? I play the flute, and I'm really good at math. I'm not just a mass of tissue that should have been thrown out."

"Of course you're not. But think about what it's like to be 17 and pregnant. Your mother—"

"Don't you think she knew that she might get pregnant if she had sex?"

"Of course, but—"

"And my birth mother was more than seven months pregnant when you tried to abort me. If she'd waited just six or seven more weeks, she could have had me and given me up for adoption. My mom says that there are tons of couples who want to adopt babies. My mom and dad adopted me even though I'm like this." She motioned to her brace. "You did this to me when you tried to abort me. I couldn't walk until I was three years old. And I have cerebral palsy, and you caused that too."

Addison's head was spinning. She'd never thought about this girl. She'd known that a baby had survived, but that didn't mean she'd lived long enough to grow up. Now here she was, sick and crippled because Addison hadn't completed the job. But if she'd completed the job, the girl wouldn't be here at all. Would that have been preferable to living with the handicaps she had?

"Gina, I know that it's hard for you to understand. But—"

"You're right. Can you make me understand why I don't have a right to be alive?" She shook her head. "I've met lots of people like you, so don't try. I make _them_ uncomfortable, so I know that I'm making you uncomfortable. But you should know that I'm really glad to be alive. Even with the cerebral palsy and the bad leg. And I go to pro-life rallies to let people see that I'm not just a clump of tissue that it's OK to scrape out of a uterus."

Gina drew in a deep breath. "I didn't come here to make you feel bad. Not bad about me, anyway. God protected me from you, and I'm not going to waste my life being angry. But the next time you abort a baby, I want you to think about me. Think about what you're about to suck out of the uterus might become."

The girl stood then, and Addison quickly rose to her feet. "I'm sorry things are sometimes the way they are, Gina," she said. "It's not a perfect world."

"Yeah. In a perfect world, my life would be as valuable as my biological mother's."

Addison shut the door behind the girl and dropped onto the couch. Wow—could she have been any more unprepared for that? Seeing Gina was almost like seeing a ghost. How many doctors aborted fetuses that years later showed up to talk to them?

It was just too mind-boggling. She believed a woman should not have to be pregnant if she didn't want to be. But this girl who never should have been born now had parents who loved her and a life she enjoyed.

For the first time in a long time, Addison found herself picturing a little girl with red hair who would have been three years old next month.


End file.
